The Weight of Knowledge
by Franciscan Gypsy
Summary: Sometimes the power from knowledge is a weight. Someone knows the original Bat trio's identity.


The batarang laying on his desk seemed to mock him, adding salt to an already chaffing wound.

Commissioner Jim Gordon irritably unhooked his badge and his gun from their rightful places and tossed them on the desk. The loud _clunk_ they made as they smacked the wood was satisfying. Even more so was the vibrations that sent the offending batarang skittering across the desk.

Gordon glared at the small black object as it somehow kept from falling to the floor in the face of his fury. "Even your toys are immovable," the man muttered, waving in the batarang's general direction.

No one replied, even though Gordon had half-expected the deep voice to come from the shadows. It was Batman's style to be there when people, usually criminals, did not want him to be there most.

Gordon opened his desk drawer and started scrabbling inside for a smoke. "No, Bats," he whispered, "I really don't want you around right now."

The things that Gordon wanted to say were better left unsaid. At least to Batman.

To himself, however, he was going to rail and rant as much as he could. Gordon found a cigarette and lit it. As he started to pace, he could hear the skeleton night crew come on and the dayshift leave. Little chance of anyone hearing his gripes.

"Did you think I was stupid? People don't get to be Commissioner by being stupid!" Unless, in Gotham City, the said police officer was corrupt. It had been exceedingly hard for Gordon to get where he was while staying clean.

Gordon stopped at the small barred window, staring out into the darkened streets where he – they – were undoubtedly performing their nightly duties to Gotham. The thought triggered the anger to well up within him once more, almost choking him.

"It's one thing for you, but for the kids…? Did you think I was stupid, Bruce?" It was the first time Gordon had allowed himself to speak aloud Batman's secret identity, even to himself. He had figured it out a while ago what with the constant contact he had with Batman and Gotham's favorite son. He had respected Bruce's privacy; figured that if anyone deserved the chance to mete out some justice to the criminals of Gotham, it was Bruce Wayne.

He had been thoroughly irritated when Bruce had dragged into his crusade the orphaned young acrobat the millionaire had taken in as his ward. That hadn't been difficult to figure out. Robin hadn't shown up with Batman until after Dick Grayson had started living with Bruce Wayne.

Still Gordon had kept his mouth shut. It had been a close one; he had thought about calling social services and having Dick taken away from Bruce.

In the end, he couldn't do it. In the end, he realized that Gotham's juvenile support system would be more likely to make a criminal out of the boy than an honest citizen. In the end, he realized that Bruce might be the boy's best chance for staying clean in a dirty town. The best chance other than the circus that Dick had grown up in, that the courts wouldn't let him remain with.

With these things in mind, Gordon had uneasily kept his mouth shut.

Once more he was faced with a quandary. Once more he considered calling that Bat on his actions.

Gordon found himself blinking away tears. "Did you think I was stupid, Bruce? I might have missed recognizing you and Dick… but did you _seriously think_ that I wouldn't recognize my own _daughter_?!"

Barbara was a teenager and the joy of his life. Seeing her in that Batgirl costume had been like a kick to the stomach.

Before he could react and possibly give her away, she had been gone, swinging off somewhere with the little acrobat. Probably to meet Batman.

"It's got to stop somewhere, Bruce," Gordon explained to the dark batsignal. He didn't even remember walking up to the roof. His fingers reached for the switch to turn it on and then pulled back.

He couldn't do it. He had seen too much, read too much about what Batman and his sidekicks were doing to stop it now. Gotham needed them too much.

Gordon couldn't tell anyone, not even them, that he knew their secret.

Commissioner Jim Gordon cursed colorfully and stepped away from the batsignal entirely. In the distance he could hear police sirens going off and he knew instinctively the Barbara, Dick, and Bruce had been somewhere in that area.

Kids grew up fast these days and they were forced to grow up even faster in Gotham.

Gordon glanced back at the batsignal one final time as he left the roof. He prayed he wasn't making a mistake allowing Barbara to grow up under Bruce's watch.


End file.
